


Of Summer, Daisies and Boot Laces

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingolfin watches his children as they spend a happy summer day. Everything does not go quite as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Summer, Daisies and Boot Laces

The day was hot, and the light of Laurelin seemed to shimmer in the summer air. Ñolofinwë, above all, felt content. Festival days usually meant duties at court, organisation and even less rest from the busy life of the palace than other days, but today, for once, he was free to simply sit on the warm stone bench in the garden and watch his family as they enjoyed the day. Anairë had been reading, but she had fallen asleep in the wicker chair under the eaves of the house, her book lying across her knees and a small smile on her face. Findekáno and Turukáno were duelling with supple, leafy willow sticks, dodging and weaving, yelps and shouts of laughter exploding from them along with bursts of leaves when one of them managed to hit the other. Irissë danced between her brothers’ feet, her small hands raised to try to grab at the leaves as they fell.

 

For a moment Ñolofinwë thought of going to pick her up from under their feet and carry her to safety. but before Ñolofinwë could act on the thought, Turukáno was lifting Irissë under the arms and walking her a few paces away, plopping her down on the ground, safely out of harm’s way. She sat there with her arms folded indignantly, her lips fixed in a tiny pout of displeasure. Ñolofinwë could not help but smile. After a moment Findekáno and Turukáno were returning to their game and Ñolofinwë’s attention began to wander as the hot summer air lay heavy on him, lulling him into drowsiness…

He woke with a start at the sound of a rustle in the bushes behind him, followed by a quiet giggle. He could feel something on his head, trailing down his face… as he raised his hand, he felt flowers, that someone had braided into his hair while he slept. He picked one out, a white daisy, starting to wilt a little in the heat. He shook his head, trying not to laugh. “Irissë?” he said, as he looked around for the source of the laughter.   
Nothing. He frowned, for there was no sign on his daughter. Then there was a flash of white behind the bushes, and the laughter came again. He smiled.

“Oh where oh where could my sweet Irissë have got to?” he said loudly, craning around from where he was sitting. “Will we have to send out search parties? I think we might. And where did these flowers come from?” he feigned shock. “I think it must surely be magic.”

The laughter grew louder.

“Alright” said Ñolofinwë. “That’s it. I’m off to organise a rescue. And when she comes back she is going to be tickled for her escape attempt.” He stood up resolutely.  
It was then that he realised that someone had tied his boot laces together. Alas, by that time it was too late, and he had lost his balance and was stumbling forwards onto the grass, arms flailing.

“Irissë!” he exclaimed, and then she was there, bounding towards him and throwing her arms around him, nestling her face into the front of his tunic.

“Atya! You look pretty with your flowers, but you’ve messed them up now. You should be more careful.” She gave him an appraising look, her small face suddenly serious. “But what are you doing on the floor?”

“You have a nerve, my little lady.”

She simply cackled in answer, wrapping her arms around her father’s chest. He began to tickle her, making her squeal happily. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”


End file.
